Hyper Intuition: Double-Edged Sword
by 00JellaNilzzZ
Summary: Hyper Intuition, despite its name, wasn't simply intuition. It was also a heightened sensitivity to external stimuli. It was both a gift and a curse. A double-edged sword, for all its metaphorical value. But none had inherited the infamous seer-like cognizance that Giotto once had; that is, until a certain Sawada Tsunayoshi was born.
1. Target 1: The Successor

Hyper Intuition: Double-Edged Sword

Target 1

03/28/15

* * *

Hyper Intuition was something that had been highly revered to and feared by those who had been in the know. It used to be a myth until Vongola famiglia's Primo, Giotto, came to prove its existence. It was highly effective on every battle, both physically and mentally, that many hadn't wanted to challenge it.

Everyone thought it had merely been intuition - an ability that immediately understood something without the need for conscious reasoning.* To a certain degree, it was. But it was only because of Giotto's split-second reactions and effective movements that made people believe it so.

However, hyper intuition, despite its name, wasn't simply intuition. It was more than just an instinct. It was also a high sensitivity to external stimuli that enhanced a person's understanding and efficiency with their responses. Well, at least that had been the good part of it.

Along its many advantages, though, it also had its disadvantages. It was both a gift and a curse. A double-edged sword, for all its metaphorical value.

Through the many generations, the ability became more diluted until it was nothing more than a nagging sensation in the back of their minds. But none had inherited the infamous seer-like cognizance that Giotto once had; that is, until a certain Sawada Tsunayoshi was born.

* * *

Tsuna had always been so glad he couldn't remember how he had been born nor have his memories during his years as a baby. Other than being horrendously embarrassed to death, it would have been quite the _nightmare_.

Since his birth, he'd always been a very sensitive person - well, that was according to his mother, anyway. It wasn't in the form of any emotional sensitivity, but rather it was in a more _physical_ aspect.

He was sensitive in a way that a weak clang could make him wince in pain. A subtle whiff of shampoo could make him wrinkle his nose in annoyance. A faint flavor of anything sugary could make him cringe at its exaggeration in his taste buds. A firm hold on his wrist could make him flinch by its intensity. And a glance at the searing glow of light could make him seek refuge to any and every shaded area.

And that had been the mild part of his disorder - for there was nothing else that it could be called. It took him time to realize but apparently, when it was light to others, it was at least a mild annoyance to him. And when it was harsh to them, it was _unbearable_ and _severe_ to him in many folds.

He didn't understand why he had to be different.

His ears bled with a simple shout. His nose stung horribly at the trace of rubbish. He vomited at the most amplified tang that graced his tongue. He was almost blinded by the harmful rays of the sun. And he acquired frostbite at the drop of a snowflake.

Thankfully, his sensitivity to temperature and weather had become much dulled quickly in his short six years of existence as his body easily adjusted for survival. Had it been otherwise, he would have dug himself a hole underground and hid from the terrible world.

At least he'd now managed to ignore the ever-present buzz of the air flow, the flood of infinitesimal swerves of pressure in almost every displacement of molecules in the atmosphere, the clear awareness of each nuance of someone's muscle twitches and perspiration, and every vibration he felt for every little contact he had to a surface even from the neighbors' heavy footsteps. He didn't want all these unnecessary information.

But that hadn't been the end of it. There had been plenty he could add to that list and still ran out of paper to write into! A lot that had been worse and more intense. Each one of them were experiences he'd had the displeasure to suffer through with their own _unique_ and _terrible_ circumstances.

It was hard not to cover his ears when someone spoke more loudly than normal or ran away when more than one individual chatted and laughed together. It was hard not to shield his nose when someone applied their perfume a little too strongly to his liking. It was hard not to threw up in disgust at a nibble of anything bitter, sour or spicy. It was hard not to wrap himself in bundles of clothing even before the actual cold season settled in. And it was hard not to avert and close his eyes altogether at the hint of anything bright - light and pigment alike.

If only he could learn to ignore everything else as well. He couldn't, of course, but he tried. However, to try also meant to estrange everyone around him.

He really hadn't meant to be rude.

He hadn't meant to not give particular attention to his teachers in their lectures nor to give them more than a glance at a time. He hadn't meant to not try his best to do anything physical. He hadn't meant to refuse the proffered snacks from others' acts of contrite to his person. He hadn't meant to push away and hide from potential friends. He hadn't meant to alienate anyone.

He hadn't meant to. At all. But he had, anyway.

He wanted friends. Truly. He did. But it was hard to find anyone who'd understand. They just didn't have the patience and control to stay close with him. They weren't mature enough to give consideration. They were just children, after all. They're just like him, unable to understand anything unfamiliar in their own world.

But he really didn't wished to be socially impaired nor to get isolated because of it. He truly didn't.

* * *

Over the years, he had tried to cope. The way his childish way could only come up with was to focus on one thing and disregard the rest. But it would be highly difficult to do so at his present situation.

Crowds' congregated often in the airport after all. Different people all came and went from one country to the next, from one city to another, and from one town to the other. All had different destinations and all had different agendas. With all these people and crowd, it was hard to thread through them when you were only a child.

Tsuna tried to not let his attention stray. He truly did. He persevered and focused his eyes to only watch his mother - whose thin brows furrowed ever so slightly, the normally kind doe-like brown eyes shone with a concentrated and determined gleam, the slight sweat that ran down from her temples and nape, and the constant pursing of her pink lips.

He kept his body close and away from everyone else. He only wanted to feel the warmth that his mother's soft hands had perpetually emitted and its tender yet firm hold as her slender fingers carefully knitted around his small, pudgy and clammy hand.

He concentrated on only inhaling his mother's sweet and subtle fragrance of fresh roses. And he tuned out everything else to only hear her soft voice as she carefully and patiently excused herself to the crowd.

But it was _hard_, most especially against such a large crowd as it was. The combination of sounds from voices rang continuously in different octaves, the grouping of soft trails of the wheels from trollies and luggage carriers, the mishmash of the rubbing of every cloth, and the phones' ringtones and keyboard taps.

There was also the continuous dispersion of fragrances to the air mixed in with a dizzyingly unpleasant smell of air freshener, cologne and dried sweat. Not to mention the rough and hurried slights of the taller and busy individuals that challenged his hand's connection to his mother's hold as they pushed and pulled at his poor body from many directions.

Crowds did always tried his sanity and aggravated his senses. It doesn't matter how big nor small it was, they always seemed to _scream_ bloody murder to his tolerance.

"Come on, Tsu-kun," Nana's cheerful voice immediately took his whole attention hostage, eager to remove himself from everything else.

He gladly let his mother pull the both of them to a less populated area. They stood and waited there for only a moment before his mother waved her free hand excitedly to a certain direction. His sight immediately zeroed to the two gentlemen from that same way, both approached them in purposeful steps.

The tall, blonde man in an orange jumpsuit waved just as excitedly to his mother - the man who Tsuna dimly recognized from the photos as his supposed father. His physique was square-built, stocky, muscled, and toned in a way that can only be seen in a man that constantly worked his body to heavy work-outs.

Mother did say that the man worked for construction. But why can't he smell the sweat, oil, cement, soil and the sun that he had always whiffed with construction workers? An individual's profession always left clues in their muscles, gestures, habits, state of garments, callouses, and scent. No matter how much they took a shower, bathed, and changed clothes, their bodies and scent clued them to.

He wrinkled his nose. There was a coppery taste in the air around his father, and something powdery, too. _Strange._

On the other hand, the other gentleman was an elderly man with tufts of white and grey hair, and dressed casually in a floral, summer attire. He had a slight - almost unnoticeable - bend on his back and a walking stick in one hand, but Tsuna didn't see the need for it. His gait was firm and balanced. His hand held the cane with strength that those of his age lacked.

_Perhaps, he simply wanted to hold a cane? _Tsuna wondered thoughtfully, then shrugged. It was none of his business.

The same scent was present to the elder as well, but it was much dimmed, like a faded ink in an ancient script. It was tolerable at least, but still, he decided that the two were weird.

Tsuna also took note of their foreign facial structures. Their eyes were bigger than the regular Japanese. Their mid-face was narrowed due to their compressed cheekbones that was so unlike of those of Asians' that projected sideways.

He frowned when his mother's hand instantly left his own. His palm suddenly felt uncomfortably cold. Sullen, he watched as his parents embraced each other. Their clothes crinkled as their arms circled almost possessively to the other and their faces buried to the other's hair or neck while their breathing and heart beats synchronized.

He took a step back and moved beside the elderly man when his father's muscles minutely tensed in preparation before he effortlessly lifted his mother off the floor and twirled her around in the air. Joyous squeals erupted from his mother's mouth while boisterous laughter boomed from his father's. The two lovers' reunion had been such a _loud_ announcement even against the crowd's effort to _drown_ the sound!

Though it was admittedly touching in a way, it still was irritating and horrible to his ears. He silently huffed and pouted childishly at this.

He made another effort to concentrate to a single sound in order to muffle everything else. But an amused chuckle rang beside him and disturbed his self-inflicted isolation. And despite being irked, Tsuna casted a curious glance to the elderly.

The older man's lips curled up, laugh lines became more pronounced and his eyes crinkled as his cheekbones lifted. He was happy - obviously amused and delighted by the lover's antics. But Tsuna didn't understood why. They created so much_ noise_ unnecessarily, that it made him want to clamp his hands to his ears - it was unfortunate that he forgot to bring his ear plugs again. And he might have done just that had the elderly man not averted his eyes from the couple and instead met his own large chocolate ones.

It took him a moment before he realized that he'd been staring back at the unknown man. Shyness overtook him as fast as lightning. His eyes turned downwards along with his now ducked head. His feet shuffled and his lower lips bitten in an attempt to focus his entirety to the floor and at his feet.

That was a mistake, though.

Had he not averted his sights to the floor, he would have realized sooner that his father's looming form had moved to his person. Large, calloused hands slipped to his armpits and had soon lifted him far from the stable and safe ground.

He wasn't able to stop the horrified yelp that escaped his lips, annoyingly squeaky even to his ears. He'd thought that had been sign enough to give the man a hint. But, apparently, his father had been_ stupid_ and _oblivious_ enough to have misinterpreted it as an_ excited_ squeal.

The blonde man threw him high into the air. He was so terrified he couldn't even scream! Blood pounded against his ears. His heart beat increased to an unnatural degree. His eyes widened so much that anyone would have thought it would have fallen off from their sockets. And his father hadn't even noticed his scared and trembling stature but had instead continued to throw him higher and higher. It was simply _terrifying_!

As soon as he was settled back to the ground, he ran in a wobbly gait behind his mother's legs and determinedly clung like his _life_ depended on it. He was heedless of how his body shook, how his breathing was hard and fast, and how scared out of his mind he was that he couldn't even think!

His senses were temporarily dulled into a buzz. And had he been coherent enough, he'd have jumped up and down in joy because of it! But as it was, his mind had also temporarily stopped processing thoughts.

It wasn't until he was sat in a moving vehicle in between his mother and the old stranger that his breathing evened out and his brain had rebooted to coherency. Blinking unsurely, his attention revolved around the adults. He, then, found that the stranger - now identified as Grandpa Timoteo - was the boss of the company that his father - named Iemitsu, as he finally remembered - worked in. And that they would stay in their home for only a few days to, perhaps, only a week or so.

He sighed in relief at that thought. At least now he knew that he didn't have to stay with strangers in their home for too long. One of them might have been his father, but the man was nothing more than a stranger to him, as harsh as it might have sounded. For as long as he knew, it had only been him and his mother while his father visited them sporadically at most.

It wasn't that he hated the man, but it was more like he wasn't home long enough for him to know better. He was more of an acquaintance if anything.

Well, that was only one of the reasons, anyway. Another had been that as soon as his eyes laid on his father, he knew that the man was _loud_ and _smelly_, two of things he disliked most. He could already feel his ears bleed and blare in pain, and his nose clouted by the noxious smell of alcohol and sweat. Again. And as always.

_Disgusting._

As soon as the door of the vehicle opened, he ran off to their front yard and his back laid on the soft blades of grass. Each blade poked both at his clothed and bare skin but he didn't mind. He graciously breathed in the earthy smell of nature as it rode into the faint, cool breeze that rustled every leaf in the tree, bushes, and grass in different notes. The flower's sweet aroma from the small garden that his mother tended to had added to the relaxing effect.

He was happy that his mother had been so considerate as to pick flowers without much scent.

He silently thanked his mother once more when she directed the other two to the house and left his person be on the yard. He rather loved his peace. And he loved his mother for always understanding. He could care less if the adults' preferred to spend their time needlessly chatting, all he wanted was the quiet.

At least in their yard, he could concentrate on to nature rather than the whole civilization that surrounded him. He sighed in relief.

The days went by uneventful - though his father proved to be as noisy and obnoxious as he'd thought. He spent his time on the yard playing with a ball by himself. But sometimes his father or Grandpa would come to play with him, and sometimes both would join and drag his mother along the way.

Unexpectedly, he loved to play with Grandpa, and overall to just spend his time with the elderly. Grandpa was warm and nice. He wasn't raucous like his father, which was a nice bonus.

He smiled as he took the red ball on his hands - bright red, rough, and rubbery.

Yes. Tsuna liked his Grandpa.

As he immersed in his thoughts and turned off his perception to the world, the brunette hadn't noticed how their gate was marginally opened nor how it creaked ominously when the Chihuahua from next door went in. He was only made aware of this when the said dog barked loudly at him and made him drop the ball from his hand.

The bark was _shrill_ and _ear-splitting_ and it made his whole figure stop in shock. But the putrid smell of the dog's breath, saliva and horrid hygiene freed him from his stupor almost immediately. The _horrible_ odour made his eyes watery but his sharpened perception didn't cloud the view of the pointed sets of teeth that he had no doubt would wound him severely were it to brace into his limbs.

A choked sob left his lips at the thought while fat tears flowed down his cheeks. The dog took a step forward while he answered with a step back. The two continued with the sequence until Tsuna, inevitably, fell on his rear. But the Chihuahua didn't stop until it had cleared the distance between them and barked once more.

The shock of the dog's snarl and closeness made the brunette cry out in fright. His heart thumped loud and hard in his chest. Fear for his life and the need for self-preservation awakened in his young mind's consciousness.

A form of _heat_ raged from within. An unknown resolve flooded his whole being. It _blazed hotly_ into his bloodstreams. It burned wonderfully under his skin. For a moment, he felt true_ harmony_. It made his whole being's perception and overall senses more focused than ever without any need of simply concentrating his entirety on one thing.

He continuously cried for the heat, but it was neither scorching nor painful. But it was _overwhelming_. It felt like it would eat him whole! He couldn't decide whether he should permit it or not.

Nonetheless, it was _intoxicating_. It was a wonderful chaos within him. But he knew. Somehow, he just _knew_. He knew that he couldn't. That he shouldn't tap into the heat.

_Not yet._ But he didn't have the knowledge on how to stop it. And at the same time, he didn't want it to end. It was _maddening_! It was both euphoric and crushing. A blend of _conflicting ecstasy_.

So drunk was he to the sensation that he forgot about everything else and simply let himself be drowned to it.

And, then, it stopped. Just like that, there was nothing. His heart faltered. His breathing hitched. His eyes were dazed. The fire in his blood halted. His mouth left agape.

_What happened? _He blinked. His mind was boggled.

He blinked once more and his vision cleared. His breathing were leveled. His heart pounded in a more casual rhythm. But there was that _cold_ emptiness. It was there,_ deep_ inside, but he couldn't reach it.

_Why?_

Panicked, he tried to find it once more. He wanted the heat. He _loved_ the heat. It wasn't loud, it wasn't reeking, it wasn't blinding, and it wasn't agonizing. It was harmony. His senses wasn't dulled. In fact, it sharpened even more but it wasn't the usual madness and unruliness that routed from his senses.

_Where is it? Why can't I reach it?_

A calloused pad cupped his cheeks and he instantly looked for its source. He found Grandpa stooped in front of him. It took him a few seconds before he noticed the thumb wiping his tears.

_Oh_. He was still crying. _OH!_ He, then, realized why the heat had stopped. Grandpa hid it from him!

His hands grabbed the elder's cloth. Desperation and plea swarmed his mind. He opened his mouth and tried to ask but nothing came out. But he tried once again.

"Grandpa…" his voice croaked in a soft, broken timbre.

The elderly brushed his hands against Tsuna's face, then, smiled, "It's okay now, Tsunayoshi. You'll be fine. It's not time yet. I hope you understand."

And again, somehow he understood. He nodded his head in acquiescence and embraced the older man, unmindful of his father's presence. It wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep, oblivious of the weakening of his senses but somehow aware that he'd grasp that heat again one day.

* * *

His conscious awoke by a muffled call from his mother. His eyes fluttered open and found the familiar white ceiling of his room. The scent of breakfast struck his nose. _Pancakes, eggs and hotdog. _

He stopped. A dulled sensation infested his mind and body in anticipation. He understood. _It's time._ He'd feel the heat once more. He could already touch the intensity as his veins thrummed in a fervor.

"TSU-KUN!" his mother's shout reverberated from downstairs, "If you don't get up now, you're going to be late!"

Eyes widened in panic and his head swiveled to the clock. _Oh. Shit._

His hands gripped the blanket and pulled it off his body. Or at least he'd tried to pull it off but the cloth was wrapped around his figure. As it was, he pulled the blanket, his figure rolled and the momentum pushed him off the bed. _Ouch._

He quickly scrambled for his morning routine and dressed himself with his school uniform. Though it had gotten wrinkled from his rashness, he made sure it was decent enough to pass the disciplinary committee's standard. After all, he didn't want to get punished for it.

As soon as he could, he ran downstairs. And in his hurry, he stepped in his pant leg and inevitably fell into a crumpled mess.

"So, this is Sawada Tsunayoshi," the squeaky voice of a child greeted him as soon had landed to ground level.

Bewildered, his gaze lifted from his downed form. His eyes took in the black leather shoes, black pant legs, black coat, red dress shirt, blue necktie, yellow pacifier, black fedora, a green reptile of sorts, and a _child_. A faint familiar powdery scent and _blood_ dispersed to his person.

His brows furrowed. He'd smelled these before but he couldn't remember when and where.

He was barely aware of his mother's babble in the background as he tried to remember. But the words from the child got his attention.

"I'm going to be your home tutor," the child repeated for his sake, black beady eyes silently observed his person.

Of course, he was ridiculed by this notion. He argued and tried to reason with his mother. She's mostly mellow but she could be stubborn when she's set her mind to something. It was like moving a hundred feet high and thick steel wall. Still, he tried to convince her otherwise until he took a glimpse of the clock, that is.

He's going to be late!

Thoughts about the baby - Reborn, as he learned - left his mind as he took a toast and ran out the door with his bag. He only slowed down when he reached halfway, he knew he'd arrive at school in time even if he merely walked from this distance.

He'd regret that later though, once he was safely laid in bed and he'd thought of it. Because he might not have to experience something so stupid, embarrassing, and painful had he not slowed to a walk. But if he knew better, he'd have to experience it one way or another. It was inevitable.

As they turned the corner, Kyoko - the school idol and his crush - and a dark-haired girl from another school had seen the child, taken interest and squealed at the _cuteness_. Then, as the two girls left, Reborn accused him of his obvious crush to Kyoko. And, of course, he denied it. And instead of teasing him for it, Reborn took the green reptile to his hand and it morphed into a _green gun_.

Before he could even comment about the ridiculousness of the situation, Reborn _shot_ him in between his eyes.

The momentum pushed his body to the ground. He laid there with wide eyes. Then, the most excruciating and astonishing thing happened. His breathing increased. His blood and veins burned in that familiar feeling that he'd anticipated since he's very young. The heat was as refreshing and relaxing as he remembered.

He wanted this. Waited for this. And craved for this. The heat could be his _drug _and he would embraced it without regret.

But what he hadn't expected or rather had forgotten, was for his heightened senses to unlock. And due to years he'd been without it, it only made it ten times worse.

His mouth opened in a silent scream as pure agony blanched his mind. The sun's rays _scalded_ his eyes and skin, burned and irritated by the hotness. The absence of his clothes hadn't helped at all. He had no kind of protection. His eyes were tearful and tender even behind his eyelids. His skin felt like he was on fire.

The honks, the engines' whines, the radios' hubbubs, and the terrible shrieks as every vehicle moved and rubbed the road's surface with its tires. The cacophony of leaves rustle, wind's rushes, doors' bangs, footsteps' thumps, birds' songs, dogs' barks, cats' mewls, and people's chats more than _hurt_ his ears. These were all magnified. It felt like _hundreds_ of nails clawed and screeched, and dented _heavily_ on a polished surface in that agonizing way.

The scents of perfume, cologne, shampoo, lotion, gel, sweat, rot, oil, gun powder, and blood assaulted his _suffering_ nose continuously. It felt fiery. Everything was so intense that each scent punched his nose every time they carried to his person.

There was just too much. He more than ached. He writhed, convulsed and bled in raw pain. If that wasn't pain, then he didn't know what was. It came to a point that his brain finally had too much and shut down. And wasn't that the most blissful and welcomed sleep he'd had.

* * *

A/N: Well, this is my take for Kurokishi'93's challenge to write about a situation wherein hyper intuition was more than just an intuition but also a heightened sensitivity to external stimuli. She suggested a multi-chapter but I was reluctant to start another one with Past Excursion still on-going (and with sporadic updates, btw). So, this was only supposed to be a one-shot. However, my muse seemed to have plans of its own and I'm still not sure where it would take me.

I'm sure I'd be able to scrape another chapter and probably just add a few snippets from canon in Tsuna's POV or others' POV. But then again, things don't always go according to plan. So, I don't know, I might make this a multi-chapter after all. But as I said, I am reluctant to start another series. And currently, my brain had all but shut down, which is also why this is shorter than my usual one-shots (usually amounting to around 10k words). And my muse had gone dry.

So, if you have anything to say about this: have ideas, suggestions, violent reactions, headaches to complain about (only caused by this fic, of course), grammar mistakes to point out, and so on. Do review. Please. With cherries on top?

Ciao.


	2. Target 2: The Unwell

Hyper Intuition: Double-Edged Sword

Target 2

04/09/15

* * *

Reborn had only planned to assess his newest victim-slash-student for the first few days. Despite the file presented to him that had contained every information he had needed to know about the boy - Sawada Tsunayoshi or _Dame_-Tsuna according to his peers, - he had wanted to add a few more from his own assessment.

The boy was everything the file had said: clumsy, dumb to a point, wimpy, a bully magnet, socially awkward, had an uncoordinated body, and many more. The Ninth had assured him of the boy's potential to wield the flames, though it had been sealed until the time of its need. A need that would come nothing short of near-death for sure.

Tsunayoshi would have been oblivious to their dark world, and have his potential remained sealed and untouched, but with the Ninth's children all dead - the one frozen on the Vongola's basement was uncounted for several reasons - the boy would have to become the heir and had to be immediately trained. The need for the flame would surely come sooner or later. And it's now his job to prepare the boy for when it would come.

His first course of action, ease the boy's body with the flames' eventual use by subjecting the boy with the dying will bullet.

"Confess through your Dying Will," he said with an expectant smirk, already envisioning the boy's horror and embarrassment once he'd finally gotten a hold of himself.

As far as he'd seen, he was positive the boy had plenty of regrets and would come out alive. But what he hadn't expected was for the boy to quail in the ground in some unknown pain.

Tears slunk down from the boy's eyes continuously even behind closed lids. His skin had gone red as if sun burned from hours of having been bathed in its rays. Aside from his forehead, there was also some blood that had oozed out of his ears.

Leon immediately transformed into a phone. The medics - stationed and planted beforehand by the Vongola - quickly responded to the call. The boy was transferred into the ambulance in mere moments and was driven off to a private health centre that the _famiglia_ had also installed in advance.

"What's going on?" his mind puzzled over the unprecedented occurrence.

He'd thought for a moment that the bullet had been flawed and had caused so much unnecessary pain to the boy. But he discarded that thought immediately. If it had been the bullet, the boy would have immediately died and the pain should have come after the bullet's effect had left.

Reborn's grip on his fedora tightened even as he lowered it to his eyes. He didn't know what was wrong. And he didn't liked it when he didn't know something nor that something was wrong at all under his watch! It made him frustrated.

He'd checked the boy's medical records from the day he had been born and he found some accounts on the reports that could have been connected to the current problem but had been disregarded since it hadn't affected the boy's health in a negative manner. But it appeared that the boy had always complained and reacted exaggeratedly over little things even as a child - the strong smell of antiseptics, the heavy footfalls from outside closed doors, the cries from the distant infantry, the bangs of the breeze to the windows.

There were the reports of sunburns even on fair days, frostbites before the cold even settled in, and irritated eyes on mid days, but there was nothing serious about them. The previous doctors had concluded that the boy's skin and eyes were merely sensitive to the temperature and weather like it was normal.

As the boy grew up though, there became less and less reports of these incidents until it stopped altogether, that was suspiciously around the time of _Nono_'s visit. And it were all pushed under the rug since.

He sighed. There was nothing else he could do now but await the doctor's diagnosis over the boy.

The said doctor was still in the room specially made to give comfort to the boy, however. And the boy, on the other hand, was currently sleeping due to the sedatives forcefully injected to his person and was carefully wrapped in bandages. He's been subjected to them since he rode the ambulance. He just wouldn't stop writhing that the medics had no other choice but to sedate him. Even then, it was obvious how much troubled the boy had been.

It wasn't until he was already in the hospital and they figured that it was his senses that had been the problem that the whole perimeter was coated with illusions in an instant. Several mist flame users had to be drafted to thicken the illusions enough to fool boy's senses. But they wouldn't have kept them up for long. That was why the special room had been quickly made.

The room that the boy was currently settled in was isolated to outside interferences with the door as its only entrance and exit. But that too had been sealed to a point. Even the ventilation was filtered and protected enough to not let anything unnecessary enter. The windows were bolted close and curtained by thick cloths. The air, temperature and pressure were all regulated. It was also sound-proofed and bullet-proofed. Perhaps, even bomb-proofed to an extent with its thick walls.

"So, what's the situation?" Reborn questioned as soon as the doctor left the door that led to his newest student's room.

With furrowed brows the doctor carefully contemplated his words before answering, "He's stable now. His first degree burns had already been taken care of by a dose of sun flames. The damage to his ears and eyes weren't as severe as it seemed and has been healed as well.

"About the cause of it though-" the doctor paused for a second in reluctance before continuing on "-It seemed that _Decimo_'s senses have quite an inhuman heightened sensitivity. We found that it had been embedded to his genes but it had been sealed for years to his cells along with his flames.

"We cannot trace how exactly he developed this when both his parents showed no such symptoms of harboring the same ability. We've checked their DNAs. _Decimo_ matched his parents perfectly as expected. The ability's DNA print was from his father but for some reason, this ability of his activated on their own as soon as he was born. I'm surprised he'd been able to live with it before _Nono_ sealed them. It must have drove him crazy!"

He more or less expected something along this line but he was still surprised and intrigued by this development. Though Reborn showed no sign of troubled thoughts in his facade. The situation was unusual even for him that there was nothing he could deny - not that he would - but he still needed to inform _Nono_ of this. But first, he needed more information, "Explain."

The doctor sighed, "His senses work the same way a normal person does, only that his brain actually work out and process more information it receives from them. For example, his eyes see the same way as others - the colors, the shapes, the gaps between objects - but to him, he doesn't just look at an object, say, a paper and see that it's white and rectangle. No. He'd see things magnified like a fine focused camera. He'll perceive the actual texture and spot even the most miniscule crinkle to it even at a distance. If there was anything written to it, he'd see the hidden texture even beneath the darkest of inks.

"And that's to say if he's only to observe one object at a time. Imagine how it's been for him around such a bright, noisy, smelly and busy world when even slight pressure changes and air flow could affect him! His young self must have adapted fast in order to accommodate this ability.

"And with how this ability had been shut down or dimmed so much for years, his body grew unused to it. Once the seal was broken though, all augmented information he received from his organs became exaggerated even more. It was expected that he was overwhelmed by it."

Silence filled the hall as he dismissed the doctor and mulled over his thoughts. He, then, proceeded to a room built for his person that was filled with monitors connected to the security cameras in the perimeter and in the room of his student for supervision. He made himself comfortable in a seat and watched his student in a screen.

The boy was still sleep it seemed. Aside from a few twitches, he looked more at peace than before. It'll be good to have the boy's association with the outside isolated. For now, that was.

For as much as they'd wanted to give the boy time to recuperate, they could only keep the boy inside the room for so long. He'd already informed the mother - or Mamman as she had insisted to be called - that he'd taken her son to a training camp. The oblivious woman had merely smiled and agreed graciously to him with a readily packed lunch.

He was thankful that she hadn't asked questions at all. He'd known of her character beforehand, of course. But it's different to see it yourself than just reading them on paper. That was one crisis averted at least.

But that wasn't the main issue here. The problem was how they're going to ease him up to mingle back with the outside world. Although, he'd already made moves to resolve that, he knew it wouldn't be easy. Still he'd made arrangements and had _convinced_ Trident Shamal to fly over to Japan earlier than expected.

Shamal would find a way. Somehow. Or _else_.

He also had informed _Nono_ and _Baka_-Iemitsu of the situation. Unfortunately, they both couldn't leave Italy due to some problems but they had opted to do some background check on their predecessors in order to find anything they could compare Tsunayoshi's condition with. The imprint to his DNA looked to have been passed along many generations so, it could be possible that it had already been present since _Primo_'s time. Nonetheless,_ Nono_ had given his assent to the plans he had for the boy - ease him back to civilization, then, follow through with the original plans.

This new development would not stop his plans at all. However, it's going to have to be delayed for a bit. It's good that Gokudera Hayato could arrive in time as planned before, but he had to be put on a stand-by at the moment. The Italian boy should be able to handle himself while they took care of Tsunayoshi's problem.

* * *

"I hate treating males,"

Shamal arrived the day after he was called, grumbling and cursing his way through but was reluctantly compliant. The request for the additional fee was not a problem at all. The numbing effect one of Shamal's mosquitoes had was good enough for its purpose. They're going to have to adjust its dosage bit by bit along with the room's conditions in order to give Tsunayoshi the time to adapt.

The first few days had been mere baby steps - or the boring stage as Reborn had concluded. They adjusted the atmospheric conditions of the room for a notch in every four hours, while the numbing agent's dosage was lowered every six hours. The boy looked drunk - or drugged, whichever a person might have preferred, - and decidedly incomprehensible, but it would have to do. He was mostly asleep anyway.

It was almost a week when they decided to increase the rate. The boy had also adapted enough to the varying conditions and was awake more often than not. It was then that Reborn had come into the room and explained things to him. The usual gunshots and bombs were avoided due to its extreme waves of noise and flare.

"You're in the _famiglia_'s private health center. Mamman was already told that you're on a training camp while an indefinite leave was filed to the school for _personal_ reasons,"

The boy had become severely subdued and quiet though, as he'd observed - his eyes widened like saucers, his body jerked and jumped in response but there was barely a squeak in his reactions like he knew he'd only hurt himself if he did so.

It seemed that his usual out-of-the-top and loud reactions were his own way of coping to his diluted senses, Reborn concluded. His body had taken its absence as a disability, like a missing limb of sorts. His body and mind tried to find the sharpness of every senses he'd been used to and when they couldn't, they'd had opted to compensate for it themselves instead.

But now that there was no need for such compensation, he'd withdrawn himself to protect his own. His body was still as uncoordinated as always, though. At least with his inborn clumsiness, he had become quite accustomed to hurting his body in that way, so, there was no need to add padding in the room, as well.

Nonetheless, he was a very interesting case. There's been not a case the doctors - even Shamal - had ever seen like it. It tickled their curiosity and they'd been more enthusiastic to discover new data about it. He didn't even need to give some _special persuasion_ to Shamal. The man had even gone the extra mile by himself and had camped in the hospital, eager to lend a hand to the resident doctors.

"We might learn something new," the doctors enthusiastically insisted.

He'd started the boy with his homework and other schoolwork, too, as soon as he'd finished his explanation. The boy was as bad as he'd known but he had resolved to do something about that long before, anyway. It's not good for a future mafia boss to have low grades, after all. Tsunayoshi's current and past school records would have to be pushed under the rag once the boy finally inherited the position of boss.

The look of fear and horror on the boy's face when he mentioned the mafia was hilarious. And that only doubled when he presented the amount of books and worksheets to be done to the boy.

He smirked. Although his usual threats were low-keyed to a point that every would-be explosion was reduced to a clap, it brought a certain satisfaction of its own. The boy would jump, scared out of his wits, every time he'd smack his hands together like dynamites had blown off! It was a different good and a whole new way he could add to his list of "best ways to terrify his students to death." He inwardly cackled every time he did it. It fed his sadistic craves full.

* * *

It took another week before Tsunayoshi became acclimated to normal atmospheric conditions, though he still couldn't handle loud noises, bright lights, the warm sunlight, and intense flavoring and scent.

His educational background was still lacking, however. He was surprised the boy had even managed to have gotten into middle school when he found that the boy's highest knowledge was on the level of middle to higher elementary years at best. It wasn't something he hadn't seen before though - Dino was more than enough of an example. The boy's quite the slow learner in academics but he'd found that with the right motivation, the boy could actually scrape over a passing grade.

"Do that again. You only got 15% right," he casually said with a brief glance to the boy's answers while cleaning his guns on one side.

His hands positioned in a short distance with each other, threatening to slam them loud enough when the boy only responded with a soft, "eh?!" and didn't immediately went back to work.

Reborn could only be happy to provide with the proper _motivation_. However, he wanted the boy to scrape more than just passing this time. He cackled to himself at the thought. The boy shivered noticeably when it reached his ears and worked double-time in solving his given problems, all the while shaking and sweating bullets in his seat.

_Good_, he thought. At the rate they're going, they'd finish the elementary syllabus in a week. _Wait_, he frowned, _that's too slow_. He paused. _In two days then_, he corrected.

He smirked as another shudder shook the boy, _That's some strong intuition. It would be good to improve on that. _Nono_'s Hyper Intuition was certainly an advantage in negotiations and battles, it'll be good for _Dame_-Tsuna to learn to use it properly.*_

* * *

Sometime on the next week,_ Nono_ called and notified him on some interesting information. An excerpt in the journal of _Primo_ was found to have some connection to it. It was previously discarded and ignored because no one could make out what it meant. But now, through some further analysis over his descriptions of the Hyper Intuition, it was found that he and Tsunayoshi had the same problems.

_Primo_ had mentioned his ignorance of its origins but he'd learned to cope on it unconsciously. He'd thought at first that it was normal until he'd conversed about it with his friend, G, that he finally knew how different he was. And since his flames and, in turn, his Hyper Intuition wasn't sealed off like young Tsunayoshi, he had grown with it and his body had treated it as a normality. There wasn't more that they've learned after that, other than some Vongola bosses' own journals with some odd remarks that painted a much diluted form of the intuition.

It was apparent that it was not just a part of the Hyper Intuition. It was THE Hyper Intuition itself as an entirety. As its wholesome. The newest generations' knowledge and level of it was a far cry from its actual form and capacity sans one Sawada Tsunayoshi, it seemed. The mere knowledge of this looked to have turned some of _Nono_'s guardians who were against the young lad's support to a positive inclination. It was not all of them, just a mere few in fact, but it was a start. They'll come along in time. As much as the rest of Vongola and her allies would.

For now though, said wonder boy was trying to inch his way through the hall outside of his room. It was an experiment to know if the boy could finally settle into the real world without going crazy.

It was evident how jittery the boy still was. They've already had the whole floor cleared of people, but the outside was still too chaotic. The numbing agent was now in a lowered concentration and the boy had adapted to it wonderfully and better than they've predicted. It was true that the boy was jumpy, but that had been leaps of improvement compared to that some three weeks ago.

So, in order to further ease him to the outside world, he chose to have them study on an open room thereon. Reborn knew the pace would be slower than usual, but they'll pick it up and double the efforts once Tsuna adjusted.

* * *

The pace had been worse than he'd thought. The world was simply too unruly. And it distracted his student too much and too often. The week finished with nothing more than acclimatising the boy to it. There was no other development other than the numbing agent was now in an almost abysmal concentration on the boy's body.

But it had been decided that the boy could sufficiently go back to the public and continue his schooling. However, Reborn would still have to be careful with the punishments to not be so overbearing to Tsuna's senses. No explosions nor gunshots yet, said the doctors. He wouldn't have followed the advice if it were any other case, but he'd had to compromise this time.

_Just this time_, he thought. This also meant he can't let Smoking Bomb Hayato test Tsuna, yet.

He'd been quite excited about that, too. _His student's first taste of the mafia_, he sighed in contemplation, _what kind of reaction would I have gotten? It would have been entertaining for sure._

But that would have to wait._ Some other time, then_, he thought. For the time being, he still had other plans to run back to. _Nono_ had told him to find the boy potential guardians and have them bond in order to increase their camaraderie and tighten their friendship. And that's what he's going to do.

Pity he'd had to delay Smoking Bomb's participation. But the Italian boy's presence wasn't the only one who could make quite a reaction from his student. And he didn't have to invite him at all.

He smirked viciously. Now, how was he going to let his student bump into the head prefect _accidentally_?

* * *

_Che. Why do I have to go on stand-by? This school's full of happy-go-lucky idiots and it's annoying, _Gokudera Hayato grumbled to himself as he leaned on the wall. He was currently smoking in peace on a hidden corner at the back of the school. But at least this place wasn't a mess like what he had been used to in Italy where the mafia ran amok freely, he concluded.

He flew to Japan the instant Reborn had phoned him and offered him a place in the _famiglia_ if he'd do some things for the infamous hitman. It was a great opportunity for him. He'd been freelance for years and hadn't been accepted by any _famiglia_ for reasons he'd found had rooted to his _father_.

He spat in disgust as he thought of the man. That _bastardo._ He hated the man for a variety of reasons. Reasons that he didn't want to remember. But he wouldn't forget how it led him to his harsh life.

And now, he'd been given the chance to make it more bearable. But that chance had been delayed at the moment. It seemed that the _brat_ who was supposed to become the next _capo di tutti capi _had contracted some disease and had only been released yesterday, according to Reborn-san.

The brat must have been quite the wimp if he'd had to get hospitalized for almost a month. And that also meant that the Vongola was in really deep shit if they would willingly let a sickly civilian become the boss. Was that why he was offered to become the next boss when he'd killed the brat? There was just no other choice?

But he knew that the Vongola only proclaimed heirs that had the blood relations to Vongola Primo. So, what was he? A cannon fodder that could take the blame for offing the brat?

_Damn_._ Should have known it was too good to be true_. He grimaced at the possibility.

He can't back out now, though. He had sworn to secrecy before he was even told what to do, and simply leaving now would be equal to defiance of that. He huffed another lung full of smoke. He was sure that _bastardo_ would laugh in his grave when he would found out. The right term was '_when_' because he was sure he'd be dead either way.

All he could do at the moment was wait. And if that would extend his measly life longer, he'd wait for as long as needed.

* * *

The copious amount of whispering was what greeted Tsuna as he entered the school grounds for the first time since last month. The heavy and careless footfalls of the students echoed to his ears, as well as the swish of bags and the rubbing of cloth. Not to mention the normal bustles of the townsfolk and the vehicles around them.

He took a deep breath as he tuned them out and continued his way to the building. His footsteps and breathing made to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want to add to the noise if he could help it.

But the more he neared the building, the bountiful the racket became. But he'd expected that, and during the last few days, Reborn had unmercifully played these background sounds to his ears via a set of headphones practically glued to his ears that had been connected to a soft copy of its recording. Though the recording's volume was toned-down in comparison, he could somehow bear with the actual sounds now. And he would learn to bear them more in time as Reborn had explained.

But still - Tsuna gulped, - teenagers created the most unnecessary clamor in any given time. Or so the adults said. Children were easily subdued with the promise of sweets or toys while teenagers were not easily dissuaded, as they reasoned. So, a whole school full of rambunctious teenagers equaled to a torture chamber to him!

Suddenly, he felt like giving his full support to Hibari Kyoya's iron-fist banner to discipline. At least, it would mean less suffering to his person. He could actually sympathize with the head prefect's hate for crowds and unruly manners! And that was something he wouldn't have thought of over a month ago - his experience of this disability when he was a kid was fuzzy at best, so that didn't count.

But despite his newly found support to the school tyrant, he didn't want to come face-to-face with him. He had been absent for a month, excuses or no excuses, that would mean discipline from the prefect and that would mean another painful experience to his person. And that was a big no-no to his book.

That was why he had made sure to wake up earlier than usual through sheer will - and some unwelcome help from Reborn - and hurried himself to school. He ignored the strange looks and pity directed to his person. If he hadn't known any better, he'd thought they actually cared.

But he did knew better. His appearance would garner looks of pity everywhere he went. He was sure. He was already thinner than the average beforehand, but he'd only become much wiry and sickly pale, too. His eyes were a bit sunken and his gait gave the impression of exhaustion.

His month long stay in the hospital hadn't helped his figure at all. And with his latest aversion to food, he'd only gone bony. Because, although, they managed to get his other senses to adjust, his taste buds had been the only one left alone. Hospital food was simply disgusting and tasteless, even to his intense tasting. It was good that Reborn had convinced his mother to tone down the flavors to a certain point in his food and averted her attention from his weak form.

When he entered his classroom - he opened the door as slowly and quietly as he could - no one appeared to have taken notice of him. Not to look a gift horse by the mouth, he walked straight to his seat as stealthily as he could. But despite the effort, someone had unfortunately threw it out the window with a loud greeting.

"Sawada-san! You're finally back," the beaming face of one Yamamoto Takeshi was what he met when he turned to face the speaker.

He disregarded the ringing in his ears in favor of giving a wry smile to his classmate, whose smile turned smaller and less bright as Yamamoto took full view of his figure. Belatedly, he noticed a silence had fallen in the room.

"Ah, thanks, Yamamoto-san," his voice rasped softly even against the absence of commotion.

He bit his lower lip and trudged to his seat, all the while he was followed through sight by his classmates. He didn't want to deal with the strangeness of them. He'd have enough of it with his condition and Reborn as it were. He doesn't want their behavior towards him to add to the oddity.

Although, if they would stop their teases and bullying to his person, then, he wouldn't mind the change at all. That was, _if_ they'd stop. He doubted they'll change, though. They'd forestall at present but they would put it back to speed soon enough once the shock had worn off.

Hopefully, he would be able to adapt earlier than for their shock would wore off. Reborn had told him that he'd manage well enough thus far, so he would adjust just as well.

In the subject of the baby hitman, he had a feeling that Reborn's current behavior swerved from his actual persona. He hadn't known of how he came to that conclusion and he didn't care much for its source, but he was thankful for the somewhat '_gentle_' and '_careful_' treatment Reborn had deigned him with. He feared for when Reborn's true character finally shone through.

He shuddered, _Let this peace go on longer, please._

* * *

_Cazzo! _The kid was worse than he thought. Was he supposed to perform some sort of mercy killing for the brat?

_This job's gotten shittier than I originally thought, _the young bomb expert concluded as he watched the kid slump tiredly on his seat. It looked more like the kid would get swallowed by his seat with his posture.

The kid was too jittery. He twitched at every sound made, even when there's barely a sound to be heard. And his eyes would pan left and right every other minute, as if taking in every little detail his eyes could see.

The kid looked kind of _off, _though. Was he really going to be Vongola _Decimo_? Was this some kind of ridiculous joke that his _bastardo_ of a father had formulated to humiliate him?

He groaned, _This is too fucked-up._

* * *

It had been several days after Sawada's return to school. Thankfully, the brunette looked like he was finally gaining his former stature. Many students had gotten scared for the brunette when they saw him the first time after his month-long absence.

The rumor mill had several speculations over how it happened. Most students' bet was on a terminal illness or at least he'd contracted a terrible disease that might kill him in a few years. Some students had paid sympathies to the brunette and even some have stopped their teasing. They thought he was on a death row and was only at school to experience the life of a normal student.

And he couldn't blame them for thinking that. He just looked to sickly. Takeshi remembered the pasty skin and dark sunken eyes when he first laid sight on the brunette days ago. He looked like he was suffering from so much. He was so quiet, too.

It was then, that he realized how dumb he was to think his problem to be so big. There were other people out there who had problems much difficult than his own. So, what if his baseball skills had lowered? Sawada looked like the world crush him in a moment's notice but he still diligently went to school and on with his life.

Baseball wasn't everything in his life. He simply was in a slump and he'd improve again once it passed over. And he had friends with him to help him go through with it.

_He smiled at a classmate's joke on their way home, none of them had even noticed his less enthusiastic grins and slightly drooped shoulders._

Right? Right. They'll be there for him.

_He sheepishly laughed at his coach's reminders of his ace status and reprimands to stop lazing off. No one noticed his increasing lack of interest in his plays. No one noticed his fostering darkened eyes as he listened to his teammates' joke over his dwindling performance in baseball._

But no matter how much he thought positively, somehow he doubted it. He bit his lower lip. He'd just have to believe it, right?

* * *

Note/s:

*Please remember that at this point Reborn doesn't know that Tsuna's heightened senses are part of the famed Hyper Intuition.

Translation/s (c/o Google Translate):

(Italian)

_Famiglia -_ family. I used it only to differentiate the mafia one from the domesticated one.

_Nono - _Ninth

_Decimo - _Tenth

_Primo - _First

_Capo di tutti capi - _Bosses of bosses. I believe I had read before that it is what the mafia uses to refer to the boss of the strongest family.

_Cazzo! _\- Fuck!

(Japanese)

_Dame -_ Useless, No-Good

_Baka - _Stupid, Idiot

A/N: I've BSed science again in another fic. But, ah well, you gotta do what you gotta do. I just hope it makes some kind of sense. And if anyone had noticed, I've long since ran out of adjectives after the first chapter. So do bear with me until I found some new adjectives (and verbs) to use.

Also, I'm still crawling mildly blind on the plot of this fic. I have a few plans for the next few chapters but there's nothing solid yet (as usual). Also, I think I might transform this into some-kind of badass Tsuna (and badass everyone, too) at some point. And his personality's going to be doing some transformation, so I'd like to give you guys a heads-up on that. Tsuna might become OOC to a degree but I hope I could make it acceptable. But his most loveable points would remain intact.

Canon wouldn't be followed religiously at this point. The general arc plots in canon would be kept in mind but I wouldn't be copying-and-pasting them. In conclusion, this had evolved into a multi-chaptered fic. So yeah. Dunno how far or how long I'd go with this.

This is a double update, so, go on. You're welcome to read the next.


	3. Target 3: The First Friend

Hyper Intuition: Double-Edged Sword

Target 3

04/09/15

* * *

Shamal had been planted as the school nurse by Reborn. He was installed in place in order to keep an eye for the future _Decimo_.

Normally, he'd outright refuse any association with males, let alone be willing to cure one if not at the threat of death on his own head - though even that would not make him agree at times. But the current circumstance was different. It wasn't that he felt pity over the boy. It was just that the boy's case had been _odd_.

It had been so long since he'd encountered an unheard of disease or an irregular debility. He wasn't a stranger to illness. In fact, he lived on them. Quite literally, too. His body was composed of deadly diseases that was countered by not exactly their cure, but a negation of another disease that opposed the effects of the former.

He was an oddity of his own. A defiance of nature. He carried hundreds, if not all, of sickness known, or unknown to the rest of the world, yet he lived. There wasn't an illness he didn't knew of nor hadn't cured, yet. That was why he was sought after by the mafia and even by the government. He was so valuable for his ability that the whole of mafia had agreed on an equal control over his person, which meant none control him at all. Thus, his freelance status.

But this _boy_. This boy's capabilities was just as mind-boggling and unnatural as his own. To think someone would have survived over such extremely fine-tuned senses and adapt so quickly over it. And the ability laid dormant - or mostly dormant - on his relatives' genes in comparison to his own. It was very odd, indeed.

The activation factor was unknown. Thus, replication of the DNA would be useless if it was to copy the ability that one was after. How his body could adjust so readily was unknown, as well. So, even if they managed to copy and activated the ability, they couldn't prevent the test subject from going crazy nor for the ability to kill the test subject itself.

He sighed. His sympathy laid thick for the boy. That was why he hadn't complained much with this new appointed job of his. The regular presence of some young and lovely ladies added to his conformity, of course. And, as much as he'd deny, the chance to observe his former student was a relief.

_That brat_ was such a trouble-maker. Loath as he may admit, he worried for the brat. The teenage _mafioso_ had wormed his way to his heart and would be the only male in the planet that he'd cure willingly, his loud complains and own wails of refusal aside.

He rolled his eyes to the window and found the silverette's figure slouched over a corner. It was obvious how much agitated the boy had gotten lately. He chain smoked like there was no tomorrow when he's uneasy. He could only guess of the boy's problems but he'd put a bet on it having to do with the would-be _Decimo_.

He knew that Reborn had called the boy over but he hadn't been filled in about what it was for. Whatever job it was, he just hoped it wouldn't land the boy six-feet under.

* * *

Tsuna was currently taking his lunch on the rooftop of his school, as he had done the past few days. It was deserted and it was mostly quiet. The student's uproar had been muffled to a tolerable degree and there was no one who would disturb him here.

It wasn't that he was running from bullies - they stopped harassing him for the moment - which he usually did, until his hospital visit, that was. No. This time around, he was running from the pity he had received since his return.

His classmates acted like he was some fragile china. It was true that it lessened the amount of ruckus they made, but still! His teachers - even Nezu-sensei - didn't pressure him when he couldn't answer nor when he wasn't listening to their lectures. It was too unusual and suspicious. And he was honestly sick of their offers of sympathies and unneeded mercies to his person.

Once, on his first day back, he stayed to eat his lunch on the classroom. When some of his _compassionate _classmates noticed his small portion and less appetizing-looking meal, they immediately offered their own. And was that such a large amount of food almost thrown to his face. Afraid to appear rude, he took and ate them gratefully even when he knew its intense flavours would make him sick. And sick he was soon after.

Instead of being offended, they pitied him some more and thought he was just too sick to eat. It was frustrating. So, thereafter, he determinedly went off to the rooftop after the morning classes had dismissed. Others thought he was embarrassed for his display but he just really didn't want a repeat of the incident. But he didn't correct them. If they'd leave him alone this way, then so be it.

And besides, he loved the view from up here. It was a bit hot and there wasn't much protection from the sun - it just gave him rashes every time, in comparison to the first-degree burns he received before - but the view of the sky was too relaxing.

He breathed in the fresh breeze - he diligently ignored the biting cool it possessed - and simply laid his back to the floor. There was still a bit more time before the shrill sound of the bell would obligate him to stomp back to class, so he could relax some more.

He hoped the next few days would be just as peaceful as it was now. He hoped. And prayed.

* * *

Hana slid a lock of hair behind her ear as she subtly took observation over Sawada. The brunette acted unusually since he'd returned. He wasn't necessarily loud before but he would make the most awful racket accidentally of mostly his own volition. And now, he was quiet. Too quiet, in fact. It was like he would make the extra effort to not create any kind of noise. There was not a squeak nor squeal heard from him since he returned.

And not to mention that he looked more paranoid than ever. It was like the whole universe was out there to get him! She swore that even the chalk grating against the chalkboard bothered him. And he would cover his nose as inconspicuous as he could when no one looked.

It was just like that time during their elementary years. Though he was much jumpy now than then, there was no doubt the perfect semblance of the quiet boy she had been a classmate with back then had returned. She hadn't known why he just stopped being as silent, but the sudden change then, had unnerved her so.

It was somewhere between their third year and fourth year in elementary years that Sawada made such an abrupt transition. He was quiet before their third year, or half-way through it, but was likeable enough to be ignored by the teachers and immature students, most especially by the bullies.

His grades were low even back then, however, no one particularly cared about it. They were aware that some people simply didn't have the capacity to be good with their academics. He was clumsy, but some found that cute - he was small and his hair was fluffy-looking enough to add to the cuteness factor.

It was only his weird preference to stay away from crowds and rowdy children that set him apart from the others. But that, too, had been ignored. So, he was shy, of the extreme variety but, so what? He wasn't the only one like that. If anything, she was a whole lot more strange with her severe hate for children even when she was a kid as well. If she remembered it right, it was somewhere between the vacation period and their return to class that it happened.

Sawada suddenly started to make the most exaggerated reactions and sounds. She didn't know why she thought it, but she could have sworn he looked more like he was trying to find something missing in him. His sudden change called attention to many. His actions had become annoying as well. And they thought he just vied for more attention. Teachers and students alike took to teasing him for some petty revenge over his exaggerations ever since. And not long after, even bullies had gone out of their way to antagonize the boy.

That was when the ridiculous name "_Dame_-Tsuna" happened. And the scorn to the boy grew ever so steadily from then. Overall, her opinion to the brunette had always been 'weird.' And now, that went up even more.

He was back to the quiet boy from before third grade and the cause for the changes was questionable at best. It was just a month long absence, and he was like a whole different person once again. She was sure people didn't simply change that way so quickly and so abruptly. Had he gone through some life-changing experience during that time? Was he, perhaps, truly terminally ill? Such a curious case, Sawada was.

She deliberately caught the brunette's eyes as it turned to her own like he knew all along she was watching him and had only gone to check if she truly was. His eyes widened - it was less dark and sunken, now - and he rapidly turned back his attention to his desk.

With his seat next to the window, his skin looked paler against the light but it appeared less ashen. And he was regaining some weight finally, it seemed. She nodded to herself in confirmation and swerved her attention back to the front of the classroom. She didn't care but she was curious.

A curious case he was, indeed.

* * *

Their current subject was PE, and the sport they were told to play was baseball, his favourite. Or at least, that's what he convinced himself with these last few weeks. He shook his head before he could venture into that lane of thought. _This was no place to get depressed. I need to hit the ball._

He was already on the batting area and had his favourite bat gripped tightly on his hands as he positioned himself. His classmate, and a club mate at the same time, pitched the ball. _Slow_.

And he, as expected, hit the ball. _Weak._

The ball arced to the outer fields. By the catchers' area.* It was not a homerun like he usually would have done from such a regular ball. Nonetheless, he ran to the first base. At the corner of his eyes, he noticed a scramble from a classmate - someone who wasn't particularly good at the sport - in catching the ball. The guy had let go of the ball and it sailed off to another direction, opposite his own.

He proceeded to the second base. A tuft of familiar brown hair grazed his peripherals and he knew it was Sawada. The brunette had been pardoned to stay on the side-lines, isolated not because of usual reasons like his attempts' would led to the team's defeat but for the fact that he was determined too sickly and to make him ran around was a sin of itself.

Takeshi's time slowed as he ran between the second and the third base. His eyes sharpened and momentarily took his eyes towards Sawada. The said brunette was still and carefully watched the falling ball with rapt attention. His feet moved fluidly and his hands was scooped above him, awaiting the ball's fall like he knew it would come to him without a doubt.

Meters before the ball landed to his hands - it was now obvious that the ball would surely fall there - the brunette's eyes veered around him, each person his chocolate orbs landed in was carefully observed in terms of physical ability, distance and angle. Once he found the right person, the ball immediately sailed without fail - although clumsily thrown.

Well, at least, that was how Takeshi had analysed his classmate's actions. Takeshi ran more determinedly. He recognized the person Sawada had thrown the ball to. It was another club mate that could throw in a good enough pitch when needed, in fact. Yamamoto reached the third base seconds before the ball reached him.

He panted. That was exciting. He could still feel his heart beats' increased thumps and his body trembled with adrenaline. He smiled genuinely in happiness of his accomplishment and excitement for the first time in a while, regardless of his classmates' congratulations to his person.

He wondered if Sawada had always been that good. And he just didn't noticed. His tongue wet his lips. Could he, perhaps, convince Sawada to join the club?

* * *

They easily won the game. Takeshi smiled. That was a great game. He studied his opponent's side and looked for Sawada. He found the brunette's grasp to the handle of a field sweeper** and surrounded by his teammates. He couldn't see what it was they were doing nor hear what they were talking about but he knew that Sawada had agreed to clean the field alone as soon as the rest of the crowd left.

Takeshi looked at the brunette oddly while he made excuses to his own teammates to leave him behind. Wasn't Sawada sick? So, why was he willing to clean alone? And why did his classmates let him do the tedious work at all?

He bit his lower lip. He should help the brunette. So, without a word, he took another cleaning instrument and started helping out.

Sawada jumped, surprised, when he finally saw him giving a hand. Takeshi just smiled back at the brunette and continued his self-claimed duty. It was during half-way they were done with the clean-ups that Takeshi remembered his supposed offer to the other.

He eyed the brunette. The brunette had gained weight but was still too skinny. There wasn't a sign of athletic muscles on his body. He was less pale but his skin hadn't got a healthy glow yet. His eyes were brighter, though. And his back was straight and his shoulders were squared in a silent confidence that was unlike the usual posture the boy had around others.

He neared the brunette and contemplated over his offer. Should he follow through with it? Was that proper? Would Sawada not get offended? The brunette still appeared ill but was healthy enough to start physical exercise or sports. But then again, his sickness might come back if Sawada pushed himself to play a strenuous sport.

"Yamamoto-san?"

Sawada's voice awoke him from his thoughts. He blinked. He hadn't noticed he had stared at the brunette since he entered his thoughts. How silly of him.

His hand rubbed his neck and sheepish laughter immediately left his lips like a finely rehearsed script. But Sawada just frowned. Did he noticed the faked quality in his acts? His eyes gleamed with hope. Perhaps, Sawada would understand him?

"So," he started and considered his words. Should he ask? Could he request Sawada to join the club and make him excited to play baseball again, just like their recent game? Or could he invite the brunette to eat sushi at their place and pretend to be friends? Or maybe they could become real friends? His mind jumped in excitement.

"Y-Yamamoto-san…?"

"Oh!" It seemed he slid back to his thoughts. He grinned at the estranged brunette, and that seemed to have eased him a bit, "I just wanted to ask you something."

The brunette tilted his head to the side and gestured for him to continue. His grin widened. Sawada's hair looked really fluffy as it swayed with the brunette's movements.

"Actually, I wanted to-" he stopped when the brunette jumped and turned his gaze to the direction of the collection of bats. A bat fell to the earthen floor. How did Sawada even heard that? He hadn't heard anything at all. The brunette's weary eyes went back to his person.

He was about to continue when the brunette jumped again. This time it was because of a student's bottle thrown off to a trashcan at a distance that couldn't be shorter than a hundred feet.

_What._ He stared in surprise at the brunette. Now that he noticed it, his eyes continuously panned left to right and his right hand regularly scratched his other arm. Red spots had formed from the area. _Are those… rashes?_

He backtracked. That's right. Sawada was still sick. The brunette shouldn't participate in anything strenuous even if it would mean that Takeshi's games would become less enjoyable from everyone's never-ending expectations. He can't be selfish.

"W-What were you going to ask, Yamamoto-san?" Sawada's soft voice enquired.

_It was nothing, _was what he was supposed to say but Sawada's eyes appeared to be too knowing. It urged him to speak his thoughts. _Do you want to be friends with me?_

"How did you do it?" was what came out of his mouth as that moment of Sawada's perfect catch from the baseball game flashed to his memory.

Confused, the brunette asked for an elaboration. He shrugged. He was never one good with words so he rephrased his question.

"You've been great lately-" he ignored the incredulous look he received from the brunette. He always knew Sawada was humble, "-and I just want to ask how you did it? You see, my batting average had gone low and-"

His words flowed out smoothly and without worries. Talking with Sawada was easy and refreshing. He hadn't felt judged but an understanding filled the air from his conversant. It was nice.

"-so, what do you think should I do?" Takeshi awaited for an answer. The brunette blinked and submerged into his own thoughts.

"I-I'm not really good at g-giving an advise. And I've n-never given one to any. But if it were me, I'll probably need to work harder. But Yamam-"

"That's right!" Takeshi exclaimed at the brunette's words and ignored the icy prickle it brought to his heart. The brunette's voice was so low and he barely heard most of the words but he heard enough, "I just have to work harder. Thanks, Sawada!"

Then, he left without any more words. His back turned, grabbed a bat and went to the batting area. He didn't saw Sawada's helpless hand outstretched to his person and the worried expression on the other's face.

Someday, he would wonder, if he hadn't left so abruptly and turned back to look at the brunette, would he have veered to brash actions? Would that have prevented him from going over the edge? Would he and Sawada ever been stronger friends without the following perilous incident?

He would wonder at times of stress in the future. But for now, he wondered over how much he'd had to go farther and do harder to get his life and joy back.

* * *

He was on his way to school when it happened. He felt the wind raced over to his direction and the raging heat a distance away before it hit him. The smell of sweat was quite prominent and the deafening shouts were not ones he could have ignored so easily. It was just so obvious that he was surprised of himself how he hadn't reacted appropriately in time.

It felt like a bullet train hit him when Sasagawa Ryohei barrelled over his person that morning. And he flew like a pin struck by a bowling ball. He worried for any broken bones and his possibly bruised body. Never mind his ego. That had been battered and thrown around recklessly since time memorial.

He groaned as he sat up. His whole body hurt. He swung his eyes to the side and found his bag and its contents strewn about in the road. He winced, some of his books' opened pages were stamped by foot marks.

"EXTREEEEEEMMMMMMEEEEEE!"

His hands instantly clamped around his ears before they bled again. Once of that ever happening was enough. Thank you very much. Honestly, why did anyone needed to be that loud?!

"Eh?!" was the exclaim he received when the speaker finally took noticed of his abused self. But he didn't want to stay with this loud person longer than necessary. His ear drums would explode from the booming voice.

So, as quickly as he could, he gathered his things, rambled over an excuse and left without any more words nor a look back. He determinedly ignored the ear-splitting calls to his person and upped his speed even more. Had he listened though, he would have known he left a book in the road.

But he didn't did so and merely strolled off to his original destination without stopping - excluding the exchange of his outdoor shoes for indoor ones - until he was sat safely to the room. He sighed in relief. The students' clamours were nothing compared to that _blare_ he had encountered.

His bag settled on the hook by his desk's side and eyes observed the outside. Students' littered the school grounds as expected. Morning club activities started to pack up for the nearing classes. Some were busy with their morning duties.

He sighed then, closed his eyes. He silently awaited for classes to start. It wasn't that he was eager for the lessons, but rather, he was eager to have the day done faster. Because, for some reason, an odd sensation had crawled over his conscience. There was something wrong.

He steadied his breathing to stop his heart from beating faster like it had when he first woke up from bed. It was like his whole being reared into panic at the slight reminder of his bad _feeling_. Some tension was weaved in with the breeze this morning. And he didn't know why.

He felt a vibration from his seat that he guessed were footfalls from the distant running figures. The steps were hurried. Their breathing were ragged and panicked.

He tensed. His eyes zeroed over the student slumped by the door. A hushed moment entered the room. Every student felt the anxiety the newly arrival brought.

The student inhaled a lung full of air before he gave reason to his stressed self, "Yamamato, he-" he panted, "-he's going to jump off the roof!"

Plenty chairs scraped the floor and some fell off from some surprised students who'd stood up from their desks. There were several screams of denial and pleading for the proclamation to be a mistake or a joke. But there were no acquiescence to their suggestions. And Tsuna didn't care.

Even before the first chair fell, he was already set to the rooftop. He ran as fast as he could. He didn't care if he'd get in trouble with the disciplinary committee later. He'd cross that bridge when it came. For now, it was important that he saw the baseball ace and try his best to stop the suicide attempt.

He knew in himself that he was somehow at fault. He guessed his retort from their last conversation was what to be blamed. He really was _Dame_-Tsuna. He couldn't do anything right at all!

He reached the roof, tired and out of breath. Others had also already arrived in the scene but no one had crossed from the imaginary line. The crowd fretted and pleaded for the baseball ace to stop and come back to safety but no one had stepped closer in fear of being blamed for pushing Yamamoto over the edge even more.

They were scared and there was concern, as much of concern expected over fellow people for a life mostly unknown by them. There were tears spilt and sweat dripped - he could easily taste them in the air. Cloths rubbed and shoes scuffed the floor as some fidgeted in their place, undecided of what to do.

He gulped. He himself hadn't known what to do but he trudged over the line without thought. He had to do this. He knew he had to.

"Sawada-san?" Yamamoto's voice echoed against the rigid silence that fell around the roof. Even the heavy thumps of steps in the stairs had stopped or by the least had slowed down.

"Yamamoto-san, please step away from the fence," his scared voice trembled with the tension as he stood off nearer to the ace but was far enough to be considered acceptable. No one moved abruptly. Everything slowed down in hopes of helping the brave soul that had took to calming their schoolmate.

"Ah. I'm sorry. I can't do that," the words heard from the far off teen sounded dry and lifeless despite the smile on his face, "The baseball god had thrown me. There was nothing more I could live for. I'm useless now. I have no right to live anymore. To the point that I've gone so low that even Dame-Tsuna-" said person flinched at the name he didn't want to hear from Yamamoto, "-had come to talk me out of misery."

"Please, Yamamoto-san, t-that's not right-"

"Oh! So, the great Tsuna-sama is ashamed to get associated with me!" Yamamoto's angry retort had sent some shocked gasps from the crowd and a gulp from himself. Rage filled the normally kind eyes of the baseball fanatic and it scared him. The voice coloured with none of the calm they expected nor the lifeless drawl they feared. It felt surreal to hear the defeated and frustrated tone from Yamamoto.

"No. It's not that," his voice soft but clear rang sadly in the air. It was so serene that it made everyone stop. Concern splashed over his tone and it made Yamamoto blanch with an undecided air. But that wasn't Tsuna's intention. He wanted the other to realize why shouldn't even think of killing himself now and in the future and not just stop for the moment.

"Yesterday, you asked me a question," Tsuna stated rather than asked but the baseball ace nodded in confirmation, nonetheless, "I said if _I _were the one in your position, I would have to work harder because _I've_ never really done anything to that extent. To work hard enough for something until I sweated and ached all over and still be able to say 'it was worth it.' That was what I said and I think you heard wrong.

"I'm not saying that it was your fault to have misheard me-" he quickly added when he saw anger seeped into the other's eyes and louden his voice enough to be properly heard by the rest of the students as well, "-I haven't really spoken clearly yesterday. That's why, I wanted to say sorry. I didn't know much about Yamamoto-san so I don't think anything I say would really matter.

"But! I wanted to remind Yamamoto-san that it's okay to be upset and not laugh all the time. There are people who really cared about you, I'm sure. They don't have to be many. It's better to have few who would be there all the time than have many who're there but wouldn't reach out. These people who care for you would understand. And even if they don't, you have the right to be selfish at times. You don't need to try to make others feel good even when you, yourself, wasn't.

"It's not-" Tsuna bit his lips, unsure if he should continue but once he saw the hopeful look Yamamoto sent him, he didn't stop, "This isn't all about baseball. I knew. And you knew. It's easy to see. You knew what was wrong from the start. You just didn't want others to know and to accept it yourself. You don't need to please others and always be great. Yamamoto-san can do other things, too. And Yamamoto-san can do wrong things, too. Like everyone else. So, Yamamoto-san… Please don't do something you don't want to do."

Complete silence rained in the rooftop. No one so much as breathed and waited as patiently as they could for Yamamoto to step away from the fence. The said individual's expression was hidden by shadows in his face but Tsuna thought he saw something miniscule, clear and liquid fell from the other's chin. But he wasn't able to dwell longer on it, for a moment before a subtle creak sounded from the fence, mostly unheard by others.

Tsuna reacted faster than he thought he was capable of. He ran and grabbed Yamamoto's hand tightly before anyone could blink in the second he heard the sound. He was just in time before the creak went louder against the breeze's push and the fence broke away from its foundation. There were several gasps and screams that followed, mostly out of shock from the students inside the building rather than the ones in the rooftop, who was still too stumped to give any reaction.

Tsuna carefully led Yamamoto away from the edge. It was this time that the crowd in the roof regained life and generally uttered their reliefs and thanks for saving them from watching someone's death. Tsuna wanted to leave due to the noise the crowd committed. But Yamamoto's barely noticeable trembling hand was still on his grip. And he knew he just couldn't leave the teen alone despite the reassurances the baseball ace had given the now dwindling crowd.

The thought of death, self-inflicted or not, was frightening. And he knew Yamamoto would need time to truly be okay with it - though he thought that would take long before the acceptance came naturally for his actions -and someone to listen to him even when he had no words to tell.

So, for now, he'd let Yamamoto cling to him until everyone had left. And he'd listen to the unspoken words once they're finally alone. And he'd calm Yamamoto as best he could with his presence.

And he hoped the two of them would finally have their first friend.

* * *

Note/s:

*I don't play baseball nor do I delude myself to know how it worked so, if there was anything wrong, please ignore it the best you could. Thanks.

**What was that cleaning material they used to clean the fields? I don't know what it's called.

A/N: I forgot to mention the addition of the titles in the last chapter. So, btw, as a trivia, the titles are a sort of question or another kind of charade for the main focus of each chapter. For example: the first chapter was entitled "The Successor," it was obvious that the answer was Tsuna but of whose successor he was nor of what he was to inherit were the questions. The second chapter was entitled "The Unwell," and of whom it pertained to and what their illness was, were unknown. Of course, the answer would be Tsuna and Yamamoto; Tsuna with the Hyper Intuition while Yamamoto was of his baseball skills' decline and his lack of support from real friends.

Anyway, be sure to inform me of irregularities and opposing ideas since the first chapter in your review. And errors in the grammar, as well. Just give me your thoughts. Please!

To all following Past Excursion, I'll update it soon… or sometime this month. This fic just kind of pushed its way to my mind and I couldn't get it off. But thank you for being patient with me!

And special mention to Starstorm 10 for giving me an idea. I forgot to mention it on my pm, but you may request a scene you wanted to read in this fic and I'd do my best to write it with justice. It's my way of thanks.

Ciao.


	4. Target 4: The Mystery

Hyper Intuition: Double-Edged Sword

Target 4: The Mystery

07/18/15

* * *

Two boys sat beside each other in the roof. Words were desolate between them. The resounding routine tune of academic lectures went by without them. Lessons had begun long ago but they hadn't even thought of leaving the rooftop to attend classes.

Yet, no words were exchanged but understanding passed along like flowing water. Aware as they were, they simply contented themselves with the other's presence. But with the knowledge of things that needed to be said, a thread of gloom lingered still. Both were reluctant to break the silence.

Tsuna was indecisive and unsure. He hadn't had friends before and he doesn't really have much experience to talking to other people, much less conversing to a depressed teenager. Not to mention he still hadn't gotten over Yamamoto's suicidal attempt. The scene kept repeating itself in his mind! What-ifs and could-have-beens revved non-stop in his brain. He couldn't stop thinking himself lucky to have managed to dissuade Yamamoto from jumping. The result of an otherwise wrongly-said words simply terrified him!

He wondered why none from the faculty had even come from all the commotion it caused. Much more that none from the disciplinary committee had yet to find them! Had they even known what had occurred? What could have occurred?! Were they not concerned at all? Or had they simply not known at all? But that couldn't be right. Students practically ran through the hallways when they would never even think of doing such on a normal day (courtesy of a certain bloodthirsty prefect). And news and rumors ran fast in their school. It was impossible for none of them to have known at all.

"How-" Yamamoto's voice cut through his thoughts and immediately ceased his attention. It was spoken so softly that anyone else would have strained their ears just to hear it. Tsuna didn't miss the slight quiver in the other's voice nor lifeless tune it held, but he didn't dared to voice it. He knew Yamamoto was trying to hold himself together and to disrupt it might cause the stability he managed to scrounge up to break. So, he simply waited and listened to Yamamoto, "-How did you know that wasn't what I wanted to do?"

Tsuna bit his lip in contemplation. He wasn't actually sure but he just knew at that moment. He stopped that thought. No. That wasn't it. He knew even before it. He knew before Yamamoto came to him for advice. He saw it every time he saw the other with their schoolmates.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing he'd uttered after moments' of silence, "I knew Yamamoto-san wasn't as happy as you're used to. And-"

_Yamamoto's eyes would decrease its natural glimmer of genuine enthusiasm that had originally attracted others to him, when the students would make careless boasts of the baseball ace's supposed invincibility. _

"-Yamamoto-san didn't deserved it," It was a clear message to Tsuna, yet he ignored it. He hadn't ever been smart but he was always more perceptive of others' feelings and actions. But he had been so used to being ridiculed and ignored that he, himself, hadn't spared a moment to consider and approached the baseball ace for it, "I knew. I-"

_His smile became more strained in the wake of his friends' jokes and complements of his accomplishments in nothing else but baseball. _

"-noticed how everyone had become more focused on your baseball than yourself but I hadn't said anything. And-"

_Yamamoto's head and chin fell down ever so slightly at his teammates' overly commented instances of some unprecedented and small mistakes he'd made. And offhandedly added a retort of never repeating them again despite it not had truly affected the game and not being his fault at all._

"-I still didn't do anything. Yamamoto-san had always loved baseball and his friends. Everyone knew that. Yamamoto-san had always been happy to have friends to celebrate with him whenever you played baseball, not just when you won but also when you lose," his arms circled around his folded knees and held them tighter to himself, "You were more contented and happy to play baseball because you have more friends to enjoy it with. Everyone knew that. But-"

_His gait would slow down just a bit and let himself fell behind his friends, yet they hadn't noticed it at all. Nor that he hadn't talked when they'd address him but they continued on without acknowledging his response._

"-they forgot. And now, everyone only knew that Yamamoto-san always loved baseball. And they forgot to also be friends and love to play the game. It changed to 'only celebrate when you win but not on losing,' until it became 'always celebrate because we'll always win with Yamamoto-san around.' And then,-" Tsuna bit his lip and buried half his face to his arms - his voice, slightly muffled, "-no one else noticed that Yamamoto-san didn't loved baseball anymore.-"

A shuddering intake of breath sounded beside Tsuna but he didn't dared to look. He didn't know if he should. His hands fisted on his pant-legs as a choked sob echoed in the roof. But it didn't come from his mouth. He inhaled a salty scent then heard a liquid drop. Still, he didn't move.

"-And they forgot that Yamamoto-san doesn't always have to be perfect. That Yamamoto-san could also make mistakes. And-" more salty water dripped down the floor "-Yamamoto-san only wanted to enjoy the game with friends."

If only he'd turned to look, he would have noticed the happy grin on the other's face despite the tears spilt. And Tsuna wouldn't have feared anything when he heard movement and hadn't been as surprised by the arm suddenly slung to his shoulders. Nor the next words he heard, "Thanks, Tsuna."

Surprised, Tsuna finally twisted to his side and found the grinning face of the baseball fanatic. The tear stains were still clearly etched to his face, but his eyes had returned the formerly missing shine. And that was when Tsuna became sure that Yamamoto would be fine.

He smiled.

* * *

Reborn hummed to himself in satisfaction as he observed his student and his new friend. Although he had taken interest in Yamamoto Takeshi, he hadn't quite decided how he would have introduced him to Tsuna nor if he would have even entered the boy in the _famiglia_.

He wasn't averse to say that Yamamoto Takeshi had been a curious case. Had the boy not been in Tsuna's class, Reborn wouldn't have taken notice of him immediately. But with the potential the boy had, it wouldn't have taken long for him to get noticed.

The boy was popular. Looks that shallow teenagers look up to aside, he had charisma and skills. Students of differing gender and ages alike crowd the boy all the time. And contrary to popular belief, it was not the boy's constant smiles that had the crowd bask into and like him with. It was his presence. Yamamoto Takeshi's presence was something he could akin to the sea - calm during any casual day, yet dangerous during times of turbulence.

_A rain perhaps, _Reborn thought idly.

The boy had not shown his dangerous side as of yet but at each moment he laid in preparation to either bat the ball or throw it; Reborn had felt that slight thrum of an underlying threat. It had brushed through his senses like a blunt knife, waiting to get sharpened before it could cut him apart. Such raw, unpolished potential was a tempting plea for an invitation to the _famiglia_.

Potential aside though, the boy was a civilian. A _depressed_, teenage civilian. But his thoughts took a curve when he found his student make the move himself and pull the boy from his slump. And it was absolutely to his advantage.

Unbeknownst to the brunet, his continuous interaction and slowly forming friendship with Yamamoto was a sure way to entangle the boy to the _famiglia_. Knowing the brunet though, he was sure to voice his displeasure in some way. Tsuna was still not quite welcoming to the thought of becoming part of the mafia, let alone becoming a mafia boss. But he'd bend. Reborn was sure that he would. One way or another, he'd make sure of it. Tsuna could be quite stubborn when he momentarily forget about his loser complex, but Reborn was confident in his skills of persuasion.

He smirked.

But the official recruitment of said boy could wait a little while longer. Right now, there's another student he's interested in inducting into the_ famiglia_ who's about to clash with his student and his new friend. And he'd like to be in the front row for the ensuing show.

* * *

It was around half-way through the third period when Tsuna and Yamamoto had finally calmed down. The atmosphere between them had also become more relaxed. Tsuna could see most of the tension in Yamamoto's shoulders had eased. His complexion was less pale. The shaking of his hands and knees had gone unnoticeable, as well. But he could still feel the coolness of the other's skin radiating to his person.

He smiled softly to himself. It seemed that Yamamoto had looked happier and livelier than these last few days, though. Not to mention that he finally had a friend! It was such a joyous moment! He might have even laughed and jumped up and down if he didn't forget to keep quiet.

He inwardly grimaced. He hoped against hope that nothing else happens and that they'll be permitted to leave without much preamble - if not in complete peace.

It took him more than an hour at least - after they've been left alone in the rooftop - that he'd taken notice of another's presence in their midst. He hadn't noticed it at first from the crowd and the tense situation they had been just hours ago. But once the crowd had left and the adrenaline had passed, there was some strange pressure he felt. His senses couldn't pick out presences; they did, however, heard the brush of wind against hair and cloth. There was also the undeniable smell of metal and the faint waft of blood.

There was someone else in the rooftop other than him and Yamamoto and it took him so long to realize. He should have known. He'd spent his lunch hour in the rooftop before and had been somewhat aware of the presence then. But since the presence made no move against his person, he'd thought it was fine so long as he kept quiet. And now, he'd almost disregarded the same presence until he'd taken notice of a growing strain in the air. It seemed that they've overstayed their welcome.

When he saw Yamamoto's mouth open, he shook his head and gestured to the other to be quiet. Yamamoto was understandingly confused but had assuredly complied. The other was still unaware but had seemed to instantly apprehend that something was up. He was just about to suggest that they leave before they could disturb the silence when the remaining fence creaked from the breeze. _Shit!_

Movements touched his ears - _a change of a breathing pattern, a long exhale of air, fabric scraped through pavement, a clink of metal._

He stopped and looked toward where he knew - he wasn't sure but something in the back of his head just screamed of danger from that particular direction - the other person was. A shock of black hair, the swaying _gakuran_ with the wind and dark aura tipped him of who they had just disturbed, the head prefect of the Disciplinary Committee himself, Hibari Kyoya.

He tried to supress his shudder. He knew Hibari was the type to value strength and they'd be better off to not show any sort of weakness. But it seemed that Hibari had caught on to the slight movement. Hibari locked his gaze to him, scrutiny and some sort of interest gleamed into the upperclassman's eyes. Whatever it was that had interested the older boy was something Tsuna was sure he didn't want to amplify. But that's not what he needed to prioritize right now. He needed to get both Yamamoto and himself out before Hibari's interest transformed into bloodlust.

Tsuna took a step back, Hibari's eyes followed it. He knew Hibari was aware of Yamamoto's presence but looked to be more interested in him instead. He inwardly gulped and tried to quell the growing panic.

_Focus._

If Hibari was interested in him, then, perhaps, he could manage to let Yamamoto discreetly leave on his own. He paused. It was impossible but he could at least try, he determinedly thought.

Another gleam passed the upperclassman's eyes. He suppressed another shudder, this time he was more successfully than before. A smirk slowly crawled over Hibari's face as he sat straighter from his position.

"A-ah-" Tsuna's mouth opened before he could stop himself. It seemed that his body had acted on its own in defence before Hibari could move any more. He flinched when Hibari's eyes narrowed. He could almost smell the amusement from the prefect in waves. What he was amused with, Tsuna didn't know. And he, honestly, didn't want to know at all.

Hibari raised an eyebrow when Tsuna remained silent. He felt that they shouldn't make any sudden movement even though all he wanted to do was to run away as far as he can. The way he perceived their current situation was alike cornered preys by a _dangerous_ and _hungry_ predator.

Tsuna's hand gripped the end of Yamamoto's shirt in a silent plea to stop him from moving when he heard a shoe beside him scraped the ground by a centimeter, a preparation to move. Yamamoto must have read his reluctance and fear. He had tried to make his movement as unnoticeable as possible but it seemed that nothing could escape Hibari's eyes at the moment.

He moved his foot, Hibari's eyes followed it. Tsuna clenched his fist, Hibari's figure tensed in anticipation. He was right. Hibari was currently sensitive to everything happening around him and was ready to move in a moment's notice. Even if they managed bolt out of the door, Hibari would follow in an instant and they'd be caught within a few minutes into the chase. Not to mention, his own weakness aside, Yamamoto was still a tad unsteady in his feet from his earlier near-death experience.

_But how could we get away without getting bitten to death?!_ His frantic mind shrieked. The air around them was getting tenser and he could smell the cool perspiration with the air. Then, he heard distant footsteps and felt another form of growing anticipation in the air.

_That's right. It's just about time, _he gripped Yamamoto's shirt tighter, and silently prayed that Yamamoto would get his message and get ready. The slight tightness to the other's muscles answered his worries. He slowly raised his other hand while discreetly taking a peek at his wrist watch. _One minute. There's just one more minute._

"H-Hi-" he licked his lips in nervousness and tried to get his voice from quivering, "Hibari-san."

Said person looked him in the eye. He wanted to avert his eyes but he couldn't. Hibari was unpredictable. He might suddenly attack. So, Tsuna swallowed his fears and spoke, "Good morning…?"

He blanched when the words fell from his mouth while he inwardly berated himself for saying something so stupid. _Ohnonononononononononononono…! NO! Why did I just say that?! Hieee! What do I do?! WHAT DO I DO?!_

The footsteps were getting nearer. He looked at his watch once again, _Forty seconds._

Hibari, meanwhile, blinked. The prefect hadn't expected the greeting at all. An interested hum sounded from him and jumped down from his elevated position.

Tsuna felt cold sweat trail down his nape from the sudden movement and inwardly cried, _I'm going to die!_ _Ahh, and why is it even so tense?!_

He gulped when Hibari took a step forward, _Thirty seconds._

The footsteps had entered the stairs but no one else had seemed to have taken notice of it. Yet. Just as he heard the squeak of a shoe against pavement, he spoke just loud enough to mask the sound, "It's a great day today… isn't it?"

He almost cried out when Hibari raised a brow and took several steps closer, a glint of metal was shadowed beneath the folds of the prefect's clothes, _Twenty_.

Tsuna stepped back and grabbed Yamamoto's hand a second before the door squeaked open. Hibari, surprised by the sudden movement and the door's opening, wasn't able to make chase immediately over the two as they dashed out the door and passed the equally shocked Kusakabe Tetsuya by the door.

It took five seconds before Hibari reacted. Ten seconds after, Tsuna and Yamamoto had fully gone down the stairs. Fifteen seconds after, Hibari had followed them into the halls. Twenty seconds later, the bell rang and students had flown out of the classrooms for lunch break. With the sudden appearance of the crowd and commotion caused by the students' realization of Hibari's irritated appearance, Tsuna and Yamamoto slipped down the stairs and toward the classroom before Hibari could follow them and for the students' to organize themselves out of the said prefect's way.

Tsuna ignored Yamamoto's laughter as he hurriedly trudged into their classroom. He single-mindedly disregarded his blaring senses, harried breathing and unnaturally fast beating of his heart. And let himself get drowned in relief for luckily avoiding a beating from Hibari Kyoya.

He was sure he'd gotten the prefect angry and they might get hunted by him later - or for the next few days. But they'll just have to avoid him as best as they can. Easier said than done, though. It'll be hard and he wasn't thoroughly convinced that they'll be able to manage it. But there's just one thing he's sure, he won't be able to have his lunch in the rooftop for a while.

* * *

He, Kusakabe Tetsuya, had been the infamous Hibari Kyoya's most loyal subordinate for the last five years since he'd pledged to Namimori's tyrant. And he was proud of it. His past misgivings and misdeeds aside, he'd followed the younger male and his rules religiously.

He'd admit that Hibari Kyoya's ways were strict and harsh but the result of this to their town spoke of its value. It was much peaceful now in Namimori than ever. Street-thugs and crimes had dwindled under Hibari's banner of discipline.

Faults aside, Hibari was truly a leader that should be respected and revered. And he would adhere to his policies and leadership for as long as he lived. That doesn't mean he hadn't wondered - never questioned - about some of Hibari's actions, though.

There was a time in his life where he'd contemplated much of his esteemed leader's quirks - his obvious aversion to crowds, dislike to noise, softness to children and little animals, fondness over sleeping in higher places in the middle of the day, and obsessiveness over keeping Namimori safe and sound - when he had only began to truly observed Hibari's personality. It might take a long time before he could honestly and resolutely say he understand his complicated personality, but he knew enough to be able to evade irking his leader.

But truly did wonder why Hibari had acted so oddly to a certain Sawada Tsunayoshi. It wasn't that his leader took the time to hunt and hurt the boy, or let him slide over his offenses. No. It was that Hibari hadn't drive the boy away or done anything at all when Sawada started to have his lunch in the rooftop where Hibari was known to hung about all the time.

It wasn't that the boy was he first to have thought of invading the rooftop before, there had been many others, but they've been disposed of - not in the way of a gory death but were merely hospitalized - for daring to do so when Hibari had so much as sensed their presence near his sanctuary. That had been why no one had ever gone to the rooftop ever since in fear of incurring Hibari's ire.

So, when he happened to have passed the brunet climbing his way down the stairs from the rooftop, unharmed, one afternoon, several minutes before the bell rang, he was dumbfounded. But when he took a double-take to the brunet, he found his sick countenance and had thought that Hibari had took pity - as out-of-character as it had been - over the boy.

_Might be just this once, _he remembered himself thinking that moment. Just once.

But it wasn't just once. There had been a second re-occurrence. Then, a third. A fourth. And so on. It was mind-boggling! How had the boy even walked out alive and uninjured when Hibari Kyoya was within the immediate area?! Had his leader found some sort of compassion for the boy? But Hibari was never one to pity anyone, his earlier contemplation aside.

For his peace of mind, he decided to observe the boy more keenly. He sighed in relief when he'd found that the boy was merely too quiet and hadn't done anything to actually agitate the head prefect. It seemed that his leader could tolerate the boy's presence on the one-hour lunch break they both intercepted each other with.

He was relieved that it wasn't anything he just didn't know about of his leader. It wasn't that Sawada had done anything incredible. It wasn't anything worrying at all.

_Then again_, he found himself thinking as he watched the brunet and Yamamoto Takeshi ran out of the roof with wide eyes, _was there really nothing incredible he could have done or to found in one Sawada Tsunayoshi?_

His mind momentarily pulled to a stop as Hibari chased after the aforementioned two. He had barely moved out of the way of his leader and he was honestly startled by everything but he was sure to have seen it right. He only seen it for a second, but he was absolutely sure of what he'd seen. Hibari Kyoya's eyes spoke of interest and excitement.

* * *

Lunch time had fallen when Yamamoto and Sawada had trudged back to the room. As she expected, their classmates had clambered up to the baseball fanatic in an instant, wallowing over his recklessness and lack of thought for almost jumping off the roof. Even Kyoko had gone off to Yamamoto and made sure to remind everyone of their insensitive words by giving him sweet reassurances and comfort.

Hana shrugged as their classmates fidgeted in shame. It had always been Kyoko's way to be more subtle; even without directly scolding them, she could make them realize their faults by demonstrating the right things herself. That was why she was mostly liked by the populace. There were jealous peers, sure, but they were reluctant to even touch a hair off Kyoko for fear of being in danger from the larger population who were willing to protect said girl. Not to mention, her loud, overprotective brother of whom was also the captain of the boxing club.

She, on the other hand, had opted to sit back and watched from the side-lines. Hana took notice of how Kyoko had slunk off to the side without a problem and without any of their other classmates' awareness. For someone so popular, Kyoko sure knew how to become unnoticeable in any given time with the correct circumstances. Hana smirked.

Her eyes then drifted to the forgotten brunet, who's already seated on his place at the back of the class. His eyes had gotten glued to Kyoko's form as she walked over his desk with an item at her hand. His head tilted to the side and his mouth opened when he took recognition of it - a textbook. When Kyoko handed it to him, Sawada seemed to have finally realized it was his own textbook.

Sawada immediately scrambled to his bag and rummaged through them for a bit before he gave confirmation that it was his, indeed. Kyoko smiled at him and mouthed a few words. Hana couldn't hear them from her distance and his classmates' still on-going ruckus, but she could guess of what it was.

Sawada must have been really surprised. Kyoko's image to the public was really misleading, especially when she acted so unassuming and oblivious so easily. As the girl's best friend, Hana was aware of several irregularities from her friend's behavior. You have to really know her, observed her really well, and let her talk to you openly to finally have the gist of her actual persona.

Surreal as it may seem to other people, but Kyoko was sharp and clever. Not just the book smart type either. And she wasn't exactly the _angel_ many thought her to be. Hana shook her head at that thought. Had Hana not been curious and observant enough, she would have missed the oddness herself. As it were, even when they were children, Hana hadn't minded the ginger-head from the get-go. She was childish - as what was only expected to children their age that time - but was more level-headed than most and was tons less annoying.

And in the words of the old saying, 'birds of a feather flocks together.' They were both peculiar and so, they more or less, gravitated to one another. And now that they had found someone of possibly the same distinction - Sawada's unawareness to his unrefined but keen observations had become clear to the two after having their own silent surveillance over the brunet, - they might as well welcome him with open arms.

She smirked as Sawada spluttered in his seat as Kyoko gave him one last smile and left him to his devices. It was just in time that the class had settled down and their teacher had come back to the classroom. Sawada silently squeaked in his seat when Hana flashed him a smirk.

Since Kyoko had already made a move, she might as well do so as well. It'll be fun to see how Sawada would react especially once Kyoko moved passed the sweet, couldn't-hurt-a-fly demeanor. She chuckled.

Yeah, that would be fun.

As Kyoko had settled into her seat, both their gazes panned over to another direction where a scowling Gokudera Hayato walked into the room, looking like the delinquent he was. And just like they've formerly observed, half-Italian's eyes swept the whole room upon entering before going back to watch Sawada from his corner. It had always been that way and it interested the two of them as to the reason with this behavior.

Kyoko's and her eyes met. A smirk painted to both their features - one that was less noticeable to Kyoko's - they're going to have to uncover the mysteries of their new classmate and of one Sawada Tsunayoshi. What connections did they have? Why was an Italian, genius transferee interested to the less than popular Sawada? What had occurred that had changed much of the brunet's behavior? They had no solid proof, but they've both agreed that all these are connected in more than one ways.

* * *

Hayato stopped himself from reaching into his pocket where his cigarette was kept. It wouldn't do to smoke inside the classroom. It wasn't that he cared for the rules but he wasn't supposed to do so while Sawada was around. Reborn had warned him the last time - and the only time - they've talked. Smoking was prohibited when the _Decimo_-to-be brat was within the same room as him, at least until Reborn says so otherwise. Explosion was no-go as well, apparently. Reasons had not been given but he was expected to follow, unwillingly or not.

He scowled, just in time when their dumb supposed-to-be-teacher turned to his direction. He ignored the ungraceful and fearful squawk the older man had made. They were of no consequence to his person. A person that was though was still hadn't approached him nor had let him see a shadow nor a hair.

Reborn still hadn't given him orders nor contacted him. He tried to hide his disappointment and relief at that thought. Either the hitman was ignoring his presence, had forgotten about him, or had put him aside for the moment. The latter option looked to be his best case scenario but he wasn't sure what the true reason was. The hitman was leaps and bounds above his level so, he was fairly sure he wouldn't have known what thoughts Reborn had even if he tried - genius or not.

So, he settled with waiting and observing his supposed target. The brunet had improved since he had gotten back to school. There was less fidgeting and he looked healthy enough, but the kid's still paranoid as hell.

He remembered once, when Hayato was on his way to the back of the school grounds, he found Sawada walking alone in a corridor after classes had long since dismissed. They had quite the distance from each other - about twenty meters apart, - the brunet was already at the end of the long corridor while he just turned by the corner. He remembered to have been curious as to why the brunet was still in school, but he had soon found the bag of trash on the brunet's hand and figured immediately why.

He stopped and watched for a moment but with barely any interest, he was just about to leave to the other hallway when the brunet turned back to him. Even though he was sure he hadn't made much of a sound - he had learned to move around without being noticed during his years as a freelance hitman, - he got the impression that the brunet had turned like he had heard something. But there was nary a glimpse of surprise from the brunet.

There was curiosity, though. That much he was sure. He hadn't taken notice of it until it was already too late, but the two of them had gone into a stare off of sort. He blinked when he finally got a hold of himself while the brunet bit his lips and furrowed his brows while his mouth opened and closed as if he had wanted to say something. Of what, he didn't know.

So, Hayato waited for whatever the brunet decided to do. He was curious himself. He realized that the brunet must have known he had been there from the start. The brunet must have turned to him when the realization of Hayato's retreat became clear. But if that were the case, that would have been bizarre.

He knew there was something strange about the brunet that he couldn't get figure out what. If Sawada had been brought up as a civilian, then why was he so paranoid? His paranoia was like he expected things to jump on him! The brunet expected trouble. And the way he reacted sometimes, it was like he was too well-aware of things.

All those he had observed, he had only found those to people who'd been subjected to the chaos in the underground society and never to a civilian - at least until now. And Hayato was almost sure that the brunet had lived nothing more than a civilian's lifestyle. The brunet despite being paranoid to a fault, lacked the suspicions in him and was, obviously, comfortable enough with his simple life.

When the kid looked to be stuck in his thoughts, Hayato decided to ignore him and proceeded with his intended destination. Without another word nor a look back, he left the brunet standing at the corridor by himself and watching his back until he was out of sight.

Hayato silently sighed and propped his feet to the table without any regard to the whole class. He really doesn't want to think about the brunet right now. He was getting tired of it, anyway. He got himself comfortable and observed the lecture in boredom - the lessons were just so fucking easy. Irked, he closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

Relieved as he was with this mundane life, he was getting quite uneasy with the normal and peaceful setting. He wasn't used to this at all. If he was suicidal, he'd have already jumped the chance to kill Sawada right away. At least then, he was sure he'd be submerged into an unending but familiar sense of danger until he died. As it was though, he's going to have to find some sort of outlet before his patience wore thin. Hopefully, he wouldn't bump into Sawada until he could find some thugs off the streets to vent with.

* * *

Thank you for the wonderful response I've, thus, received. You guys make so happy~! I can't believe I already received tons of support on only three chapters. I can't express how much you people overwhelm me with it!

Anyway, I would have just left the aftermath of Yamamoto's suicide last chapter but I thought otherwise. As a result, this chapter had become sappy and cheesy (somewhat). And this would probably go on with that trend every time there needs something on the characters' part to be resolved. Though not always. Just especially when someone's depressed or something.

But, anyway, I'm not going to make this a total drama. Goodness, no. Though I might delve into darker themes once the actual mafia enters the plot.

As usual. Please review! Your insights are greatly appreciated and considered. So, in that line, what do you think of this chapter's subject? Or the whole chapter? Or the whole fic, thus far? How about the characters? Or my writing? Or just anything at all?

Reviews, faves and alerts are like maple syrup to my pancakes! And I love maple syrup~!

Special Mention to stealthymeh. Thanks for that review! You're heaven sent! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'd like to message you but you signed as a guest. So, if you have any request of any scene you'd like to see in this fic, I'd happily add it any way I can. PM it to me if you have an account or just add it to your next review if you don't. And Once again, THANK YOU!

Ciao!


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